All For A Rose
by Topaz B. Rainheart
Summary: A twist on Beauty/Beast. Isabella is simply a court lady, being raised without a mother, until the new king is throned. Despite being friends with him as children, King Cecil shows poor judgement, ending in Isabella's family leaving court. Only two years later, Isabella is back, but can she bring herself to beg from the man who caused her misery? And what will the price be?
1. Prologue

**AN: If you can't tell, this is a Beauty and the Beast rewrite. In this, he wasn't 'beast-ized' so much as lost touch with his subjects. I hope its liked!**

**~Topaz**

* * *

Isabella remembered the day she and her father had left court. Up until her fifteenth birthday, her father had been the king's adviser. When she turned fourteen, the old king died, and his only son was crowned king. Kind King Conrad, had been the old kings nickname. The new king, Cecil Dorian, made it abundantly clear he was not anything like his father. True, it must have been hard, having the throne thrust at him when he was but three years Isabella's senior, but he took it poorly. Isabella's father, Duke Jasper, could only take it so far. His patience snapped when an old beggar woman appeared at the gates, crying out for help. The king had rudely sent her away. Even worse, when the woman would not leave, wailing about how his majesty's guards had taken everything she owned, all but the clothes on the back and her precious rose-bush, which they were threatening to cut down, he had her executed. Over a rosebush.

That day, Duke Jasper stepped down from his role. They moved back to their manor. Isabella remembered agreeing angrily with her father. When Cecil and she were younger, they had played together, and been good friends, to the point of a marital union being suggested at one point. But this was not the Cecil she knew and loved. She swore to never see his face again, if at all possible.

Oh how she would eat those words in the days to come.

_(Two years later)_

"Papa, I'm home," Isabella called as she walked in the front door. When she was sixteen years, her father had realized he had neglected her learning, and sent her to finishing school. She had finished within eight months, and was glad to be home. She was now seventeen years old.

She knew Papa worked hard to maintain their lands, and to keep a good relationship with the villages that lived there, but she couldn't help feeling hurt that he wasn't there to greet her.

Walking into the formal sitting room, something didn't feel right. The paintings Mama had painted while she was sick and couldn't get out of bed, before she died, were gone. The flowers that usually filled the room were gone. So was the warm, fluffy rug in front of the hearth.

"Isabella." It was so soft, she barely heard it. She whirled, and gasped. Papa was thinner than ever, and his clothes were worn.

"Whats happened, Papa?" she asked softly.

"We're in debt. I had to sell almost everything." He laughed harshly. "That fool king up there is taxing everyone to death. I don't know what to do." He took a rattling breath. "You must go back to court."

"What?! Why?!" she demanded angrily. Then she realized what he meant. "You want me to come back crawling at his feet, begging for money like a common street urchin?" Papa used to have pride! He wouldn't have stood for this in the past. Yet now he was convinced it was the only option.

"You must," whispered Papa, "He knows you, you used to be friends...maybe you can convince him to change his ways. There is no other choice..." He sank into the couch, looking exhausted. "I can't make the journey, but I've saved enough coin to get you there. You'll be welcome at court." Isabella held her head in her hands. Then she looked up.

"I'll do it."

Two days later she was in a carriage, her trunks not even needing to be repacked. She was on her way to court.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN: You might be interested to hear this bit of trivia behind the new kings name. I looked up pretty much every name on a Victorian name list. When I saw the name Dorian, my mind immediately went to a show I had recently watched, called _Almost Human_. Its a very interesting show set in the future, but was cancelled before the first season ended. One of the main characters was called Dorian. He was an android built to be as human as possible. I liked the character, so I gave him that name. Cool, huh?**

**EDIT: OH MY GOD I GOT A REVIEW.**

**LOOK.**

**A REVIEW.**

**Ahem.**

**I mean...thats cool. Thats cool.**

**Blue Rose Ink wrote: "Well this is a sad beginning. But i think that it'll get better."**

**Reply: "It is sad. Just the way I like it. :D I'm not following the plots of Beauty and the Beast that I've read completely-Isabella is much more independent, for one...I hope you enjoy this chapter! Its super long!"**

**~Topaz**

* * *

Isabella had arrived late the last night, so she had not yet had a chance to meet with the king. Exhausted from her long journey, taken so soon after the first, she slept till almost noon. Finally, she rose. Ringing for a maid, she stretched, then got out of bed. Within minutes, she heard timid knocking. "Come in," she replied. A small, mousy looking girl opened the door, looking scared.

"Am I t'draw your bath, Milady?" she squeaked. Isabella nodded, and the girl went to the large porcelain tub. Once the bath was drawn, Isabella chose a delightful scent of vanilla and roses. She soaked almost until she was pruny, and scrubbed every inch of her clean. When she stepped out of the bath, the maid-Nettie was her name, she had learned as the girl scrubbed her back when commanded-draped a plush robe around her. After drying off, Nettie helped her dress. Isabella liked the young maid. The girl was obedient, and likable. She had Isabella's corset on faster than Isabella's own maids ever had, and all under-layers were on in record time. Carefully, Isabella slipped on the over-gown, holding the sash out for Nettie to tie once the many buttons had been fastened. It was a robins egg blue, with silver embroidery decorating it in elegant designs. The openings along the side revealed a slightly paler blue lacy under-skirt, and her sleeves were tight up to her elbow, then widened until they were long and draping, almost reaching the floor, with silver gilt. She wore pearls in her ears and on her neck, and rouge to color her eyelids and full lips. If only the girls at finishing school could see her now, Isabella thought grimly. She'd been teased for her ruddy complexion, full of freckles, her height, far too tall for a lady, and her curls, which could never decide if they were brown or red. She'd blossomed in the next year, growing into her height, and while she doubted her freckles and not quite as pale as appropriate complexion would never leave, her hair was a long, lovely chestnut. Her eyes, long-lashed, were grey and long-lashed. She still hated her nose, though. It was far too big for a delicate young lady.

Once Nettie braided her hair with expert hands, she wove it into a large knot at the back of Isabella's head, and secured it with a pearl studded net. Isabella looked at herself in the mirror. She may not be wealthy, she thought, but she certainly hid it well. Her dress was just right for her station; her shoes clicked satisfactorily on the floor, and her hair was neat and serene.

"His Majesty is ready for you now," a voice came from the door. A manservant stood there, looking nervous. Isabella couldn't blame him. She, too, felt nerves overtake her for a moment. Hoping to calm them both, she gave him a friendly smile.

"I assume you will be taking me to his Majesty?" she asked demurely. The man nodded. He strode off. Isabella trotted after him, holding her skirts up. Gods, he was quick. In the blink of an eye, he had brought her to a set of ornate double doors. The doormen opened them, and Isabella walked into the throne room, feeling her nerves return to her twice as much.

The first feeling she had, looking around the room, was sheer confusion. When she was last here, the room had been peaceful. Directly opposite from the door, at the end of the room, was the dais. It was constructed of three platforms layered. The first platform, just above the floor, had held tables, and any royal servants who were needed that day. Her father had always sat there. It was for ladies in waiting, advisers, and the like. The second had a series of small, simple thrones. That was where children of royalty, or directly related to royalty sat. If the new queen or king's parents were still alive, they sat there, or siblings. The final platform only held the king and queens thrones, both equally grand. The room had tapestries all around, between the huge windows, and under the windows, tables were placed, for conversations and such to take place. There was seating around the room. The throne room had been used for official ceremonies, to hold council, to grant audiences, to award high honors and offices, and to perform other official functions.

To say she was shocked was the least. The dais had been stripped of all chairs except for the kings. Instead of comfortable seating scattered around, the room had many cushioned benches lined up in front of the dais, except for one expanse which held a long red velvet rug. The tapestries had been covered and the window curtains drawn, forcing servants to light many candles scattered about the place. Even then, the place was dim and eerily lit.

"Her Ladyship Duchess Isabella Katherine Sarah Elizabeth of Marlin," announced the old servant by the door. Isabella walked up to the dais, and curtsied deeply. The room was disturbingly empty, with merely a few guards standing around, and the former queen by one window, opening it a bit to peek out.

"Rise." Isabella rose, looking up to meet the kings eyes.

His Majesty, King Cecil Dorian, was still as striking as ever. At twenty years old, he was still six feet, and slender. He didn't have much muscle on his pale skin, and his long blond hair had been cropped short. He had grown a beard, but it didn't make him look older. With his long lashes and brown eyes, he looked like a boy trying to imitate a man. Still, his face was cold. "Why have you requested an audience?" he said, glaring fiercely at her.

Isabella ducked her head quickly, painfully aware she was being impertinent, believing herself high enough to look straight at him. Thankfully, only the former queen would have scolded her, and Eudora was looking wistfully out at the castle grounds. Isabella swallowed. "If I might be so bold, your majesty, I have come to ask-"

"Save your sob story," the man cut her off impatiently. At her look, he assumed a mocking falsetto. "You were to say, 'oh, kind and great majesty, you are ever so fair, but my family cannot afford your taxes, we need money, please, I beg of you, my village is starving, please shower your kindness upon us for we are your lowly servants'." He laughed. "All the same, you lot. Money grabbers. Rest assured, madam, I don't want your filthy blood money. I simply want you to suffer. All you fools, thinking this life is grand, that I have endless money to throw at you." The longer he spoke, the more Isabella's blood boiled. What had happened to the gentle Cecil she played with as a child? Why was he being so cruel? She glared at him, unable to contain her fury.

"If only you were half the king your father was, you would see how your subjects are hurting," she said coldly. She was as good as dead now, why waste her breath on formalities? "Your lords, your nobles, are bleeding, and the citizens fare even worse. You're so busy fighting on the borders half the time you don't see what you've caused. I despise you." She spat.

She was expecting him to be angry, to have her brought to the dungeons and executed, or shot right then and there. What she wasn't expecting, was the king throwing his head back and laughing. Eudora, brought back to her senses, glared at her son.

"If your mother could, she would be rolling in her grave," the king chortled, "Certainly no simpering noble has done that before. Very well, little girl, you think you know whats going on? I shall put you to the test." Isabella was confused. "I shall make you a deal. I am not so popular with the people, as you well know. There is talk of rebellion, and I won't have the kingdom lose its royalty. I shall send one chest of coin to every noble, effectively paying them for two years, and cut down on taxes for some time, to avoid poverty, but I must do something to regain my popularity. By marrying someone, producing a queen, I will convince the people they have a voice. Those fools shan't realize the truth, and I shall have a queen, ensuring the bloodline continues."

"Why would I marry a beast like you?" she snarled.

"Oh, I think you will," Cecil sneered, "If you value yours and your fathers lives and lands. In exchange for your hand in marriage, I shall even send your father an extra chest of coin, enough to pay back your poor little debt and more. Consider it your bride price. What do you say, little fire head?" Isabella seethed, but she had no choice.

"Very well, your majesty. I accept."

"Excellent." He got up suddenly. "Mother!" he said sharply. Eudora looked at him. "Show the duchess to her chambers, and have a letter sent to her father to inform him of the engagement." He turned to Isabella. "You are not to send word to anyone. I don't want my bride convincing people I trapped you here. You are a political piece, and I won't have you ruining your role."

"Wait, what?" Isabella wasn't expecting that, "You do not even allow me to send word to those I love?"

"They will be informed, properly." Before she could argue again, he snapped his fingers, gesturing a guard closer. "Make sure she does not leave her chambers without my consent, or send any messages." The guard nodded abruptly. Isabella was beyond furious, but she knew nothing she said would change him.

She left the room close to tears.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: *runs in huffing and panting* I-I'm here, I-HOLY HEPHAESTUS I GOT MORE REVIEWS. *almost faints* Well, I will have to start trying to update more often, I guess...**

**Review responses:**

**Blue Rose Ink wrote: "Your authors note was lol! Thanks for the shout out. Also things are getting more heated. I didn't expect them to get engaged so soon. But with Dorian being the way that he is i can see why. Man that dude has some problems! I must say that I'm looking forward to more, even tho is still kinda sad. Update soon."**

**Reply: "Yeah, hes a jerk. And I try to always reply to reviews in my authors notes. I don't want to seem like I'm ignoring you guys, when you're so great to me."**

**winterprincess wrote: "This is great! I love your writting.  
Update soon!"**

**Reply: "I aim to please."**

**Finally, this is a bit of a two-parter. Hope you like it!**

**~Topaz**

* * *

"Don't mind him, dear."

As soon as Isabella had reached her chambers, she had collapsed into bed, her hands gripping the bedspread tightly. She looked up at the womans soft voice, surprised. This was the first Eudora had said.

Eudora sank down gracefully beside her. "When my husband passed away, it hit Cecil horribly. People here saw Conrad as a symbol of hope and peace, but other kingdoms saw him as weak." Isabella looked at her. Eudora was looking down at her lap, her hands loosely clasped, with her mouth in a straight line. "Cecil's first year and a half as king was spent reclaiming stolen lands, and protecting the border. He was far too young and untrained for that, and I'm afraid it made him terribly bitter towards his father, and indeed any noble, believing them to be so weak they could not protect their own land without someone holding their hand." Isabella had seen many nobles, and against her wishes, she started to feel for the young king. Nobility had grown soft. "He started to act out, and while I could see the way people started to look at him, I was only able to do so much. Your father was able to keep him from making some of his worse decisions, but when he left, Cecil lost all hope of being received favorably by the kingdom."

"Then why does he think marrying me will help?" Isabella demanded. She looked down, blinking hard, and squeezed the blanket in frustration.

"He believes none of that," was Eudora's reply, "I don't know what the lad is thinking." She sighed. "Just...when you speak to him, don't forget, hes different. You knew him differently before. Try to think kindly." She swished out.

Isabella waited until Eudora was gone to let the tears flow.

* * *

Once she'd dried her tears, Isabella changed into a more comfortable dress, and sat down by the window, where it was cool. Outside the grounds, it seemed a bit more active, but only just. Knights in training were practicing in the courts, and she could see a hunting party heading out. The king had three younger brothers and four sisters. She was fairly certain the young woman wearing a tunic and breeches, sitting on the wide black stallion, was his youngest sister, Lenora. She had the striking platinum hair of one from the royal line. She was training as a knight last Isabella knew, and despite being the same age as Isabella, and a petite, tiny thing, she was feared. Isabella had seen her knock full-grown men off their horses in jousting competitions. While she watched, Isabella took the opportunity to work on a piece of embroidery she'd started on the way here. It was, ironically enough, a rose. She'd decided to embroider an elegant bird cage around it. Symbolic. She was just working on a leaf, making the design a dark green, with pale green veins spiraling in it, when she heard a knock. "Enter," she called absent-mindedly.

"Lady?" Nettie peeked in. "His Majesty told me to tell you your presence is required at supper. He said to wear something formal, hes ta announce the betrothal."

Isabella narrowed her eyes. "I shall do no such thing," she snapped, putting the sewing down before she ruined it. "Tell his Majesty, if he wishes for my appearance so much, he shall have to drag me there." Nettie looked down.

"Yes, Lady." She ducked out.

Isabella sighed, and returned to the leaf.

Several moments later, a broad, busy looking woman in a voluminous blue/grey gown rushed in, followed by four maids and Countess Eudora. "Whats going on?" she demanded, annoyed.

Isabella was not expecting what happened next. While one maid went into the dressing room and started to draw a bath, the bustling woman directed the other three maids in locating clothes.

"His Majesty has ordered you to attend," Eudora said stiffly, in a pained voice, "He also said I was to, along with these women ensure that you were properly dressed."

Two hours later, Isabella was standing outside the doors to be announced. After having been forced to undress and scrubbed mercilessly, she'd been dressed in countless layers of petticoats. Over it all was a green brocade gown, with golden gilt and velvet ruffle trim at her hem, and just golden gilt on her long, draping sleeves. Under the the gown was a tight sleeved, high necked, pale cream gown. The sash was more green velvet and gilt, with decorative jewels on it. Her hair had been pulled into a pearly net, with one curl free, and she wore oval emeralds set in gold, in her ears and on her neck, and on her forehead.

She looked ridiculous.

Finally, she was released. Eudora escorted her to the dining hall. Isabella couldn't help being jealous of the older woman. Eudora wore a comfortable, dusky pink shade dress, with only embroidered flowers on her skirt with jewels for the petals and pearls for the center of the flowers. Her blond hair was braided, with nothing else done to it.

Once they reached the doors, they were stopped once again. From beyond the door, she heard them being announced. "The Duchess Isabella Katherine Sarah Elizabeth of Marlin, and Countess Eudora Mary Ann Louise of Trenton."

Isabella closed her eyes, trying to calm her nerves. _You can do this, just relax. _Then she stepped through the open doors and into the dining hall.


	4. Chapter 3

**AN: Guys, I'm sooo sorry. I'm working on all my stories as much as possible (giving up on Camp NANOWRIMO), but real life is getting in the way. Ignore the part about writing this in the car, its not really relevant.**

**First:**

**WHAT. I GOT A FAN MAIL.**

**WOAH.**

**0.0**

**9loveletters9 wrote: "Oh my gosh! you can't just do that! you have to update soon! I can't wait to see how that egotistic Prince and Isabella's relationship goes!"**

**Reply: "I'm so sorry for taking so long! And I'm double sorry for the meanness in this chapter!"**

**Second. Lets take a look at the stats.**

**...**

**O.O HOLY HEPHAESTUS!**

**NINE REVIEWS, NINE FOLLOWERS, FIVE FAVORITES, THREE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY THREE VIEWS, AND ITS IN A COMMUNITY! **

**Shout out to my followers; 9loveletters9, Blue Rose Ink, LadyReaper1992, TMIiminlove, Taylorangel9500, The most Awesome of all, chancesforluck,** karina marinaiov, and seelieprincess.****

****Shout out to people who favorited; Barbiegirl 22, Taylorangel9500, The most Awesome of all, jeccabelle, and karina marinaiov.****

****Whoever put _All For A Rose_ in the community Romance Heaven-THANK YOU!****

****Finally, reviews.****

****Blue Rose Ink wrote: "Dang! Being forced into something is never fun. But things are kinda looking up, sort-of. Im very interested in this younger knight sister. Very curious position for a princess. I need to know what happens next. Update soon!"****

****Reply: "Agreed. As for his sister...I'm a hardcore TP fan. My medieval world is based off hers, and I just sort of shoved the princess in without thinking. Heres an update and a virtual cookie sword for waiting!"****

****Taylorangel9500 wrote: "I really like this story and the things Isabella says sounds like the things I would say but I kinda wish the king was more built and irresistible looking to push her into liking him more even though he revolts her at the moment but overall great job! Review soon"****

****Reply: "As much as I'd love to gush about this review (and I will, I promise) this is a fanfiction site, so I feel honesty is better than portraying a sweet character. I'm glad you love the story, and the things Isabella says-I'm trying to make her an independent, strong female character. I'm hoping thats how she comes off as. Now, the serious part. I read your review a couple of times, and I'm sorry, but your comment about the kings physical attributes makes me uncomfortable. No one should be 'pushed' into liking someone, and, especially in a story where the origins were supposed to include a bit of beauty being on the inside mattering more, I think the attractiveness of the king shouldn't be a deciding factor. I'm reading a webcomic where theres a character who could, I suppose, be considered ugly, but hes a kind, sweet person, and that makes me adore him. The king is, actually, more muscled than Isabella lets on-you'd have to be pretty strong to win a war, but his looks are meant to be a secondary factor in what Isabella thinks of him. I'm honestly a little disturbed by the idea of Isabella liking him more because of his looks. When she describes him as like a boy trying to be a man, thats not a description of his physical appearance looks wise, but attitude wise. Hes not mature enough for his role, hes trying to grow up too fast, and its painfully obvious that hes still a boy, even if he looks like a man.****

****I'm sorry if this offends you, but I had to say it. Now, on a cheerier note, I'm glad you like it, so heres an update and a virtual cookie crown for waiting!"****

****9loveletters9 wrote: "Love your story! Please keep writing and update soon!"****

****Reply: "Of course, I'm glad you love it! Always great to hear support like this! Just taking the time to write that shows me that I have wonderful readers out there! Heres an update and a virtual cookie heart!"****

****TMIiminlove wrote: "Cool it's good  
You should write more soon  
Or now****

****I would keep reading if you did"****

****Reply: "Eep! I wish I had a time machine! Will you settle for this very late update and a cookie TARDIS? Its bigger on the inside..."****

****winterprincess wrote: "I feel bad for Isabella. If I were in her place I would do everything I could to do what Cecil says and not do it at the same time. Does that make any sense? I hope she defies him. Ignores him. Acts cold.  
"His highness" is being a complete and utter jerk. Hopefully he will change?  
Update soon!"****

****Reply: "Yes. Doing the letter of what he says, not the spirit. Like in Ella Enchanted. And she probably will. As for his highness/Majesty, I would tell you that since this is based off a book, to go look at that and see how that ends, but honestly my characters get away from me, so it'll probably change a lot. I hope he gets better, though.****

****Heres an update and a virtual cookie icicle."****

**** chancesforluck wrote: "I really like this! Your writing is amazing! PLEASE UPDATE FAST!"****

****Reply: "I WILL UPDATE AS FAST AS POSSIBLE! Heehee. But seriously, heres a virtual chocolate chip cookie and an update."****

****~Topaz****

* * *

Isabella was sure she'd had a worse supper experience in her life...she just couldn't think of it.

It wasn't bad in some respects. Apparently his Majesty's reputation was off-putting. And that was the nicest way she could put it. At least he would be known as the only king who had less than a handful of nobles on his side.

Isabella had been seated in between the king and his mother, probably so she would say anything compromising. Any time she started to say something the king didn't like, he'd kick her feet roughly. Eudora, meanwhile, just focused on making sure Isabella didn't lose her cool by rapping her back discreetly and gently.

In all Isabella's memories, she'd somehow missed the food. The old king used to have meals close to feasts, inviting many nobles. There was always at least one dignitary at the meal. What was left, the kitchen workers took home.

Cecil, however, had very different ideas of what to serve. They had several courses, as dictated, but the portions were much smaller than usual. The first course, a thin broth, far too oily and tasting like water for her taste, was accompanied with tiny, mostly air puffs of dough. Isabella was aghast. Had all the previous kitchen staff quit, due to Cecil's tastes?

Finally, somewhere around the third course (a salad of limp greens, dry and more of those infernal puffs), while Isabella was wishing Cecil didn't water down the ale so that she couldn't get drunk, she realized he had stood.

Instantly, all hushed talk was silenced. "Fools!" he shouted. Isabella was shocked as she realized he was referring to the nobles. How dare he disgrace them like that? "You fools, shut up and listen." Unneeded and disrespectful. Isabella was fuming. "I present to you, lady Isabella." Isabella was startled. Then he added, glaring at her like he dared her not to stand. "My betrothed." The others immediately bowed or curtsied.

Furious with Cecil, Isabella still sat. Then, Cecil gave her a look.

"My lord?" she asked, keeping her voice almost polite, with a hint of mocking that only he would catch. She rose, seeming to him to have regained her composure. Quietly, she reached a hand out.

Before anyone noticed, she flung a pastry dish at him that was mostly compiled of over-cooked meat and vegetables. Cecil was ready for it, though. He blocked it, so the ceramic didn't break against his chest, then in the next moment had her arms behind her back.

Isabella twisted a bit, glaring at him. She noted with some satisfaction that his hands seemed to be full of ceramic shards. That would teach him.

"Escort the lady Isabella to her quarters," he snapped at two guards, who moved to escort Isabella out the room. As she left, she could hear him saying something along the lines of the lady Isabella and making some excuse.

It pleased her to see him flustered, for once.

It did not please her, two hours later, when she was still hungry. She'd changed, with Netties help, out of her dress, and dressed in a plain linen shift, complaining bitterly the whole time. She had been restricted to her rooms until further notice. Isabella had worked on her embroidery, used the chamber pot, brushed the knots out of her hair, worked on her embroidery some more, and tried to construct a letter to send to her father. She wished she had brought the trunk of things from school here. She hadn't thought it would be useful.

Rolling onto her side on the bed, Isabella sniffed a little. She could still remember when she'd met Cecil, years ago...

_Isabella was in the court gardens, crying. When her governess had slapped her for not minding her lessons, it had been the last straw. Isabella hid in the Rose Gardens, nestled between a few rose bushes on a bench, her small black dress torn, and her hands scratched. Her father was busy helping the king with negotiations. He didn't have time for his only daughter._

_"Hello?" Isabella froze. Then she dove behind the bench, hiding under the rose bush. It scratched her up even more, but she ignored it. Then she heard the voice above her._

_"You shouldn't play with my mothers rose bushes." Red with embarrassment, Isabella crawled back out, and found herself face to face with a little blond boy. He looked to be about three years older than her five years, and he was looking rather calm. _

_The boy looked around some. "Didn't you know these are the queens roses? She doesn't let anyone she doesn't like in here, and she is in charge of who works here."_

_Now Isabella was curious. "I was looking for somewhere to hide," she said, "My governess was being silly again, and Papa is with the king. Where did she get all the roses?"_

_"My father." The boy smiled. "When they met, she said roses were her favorite flower. So Father sent her a dozen roses. When they were married, he gave her a little rose bush plant, and told her that represented their marriage. The thistles were all the arguments they would have, everything they didn't like about each other. The roses were the love, the things that made them stay in the marriage. He said he would always protect his little rose, even if he had to be the biggest, baddest thistle to do it." The boy paused. "He gave her another bush every anniversary, and its become a bit of a tradition to give the queen a rose bush or something rose related." Isabella smiled._

_"Thats sweet. Oh!" Isabella realized she'd forgotten to call herself. "My names Isabella," she said._

_"I know," the boy said, "I've seen you with your father, and I was at your mothers funeral. I'm sorry about that, by the way," he added. Changing the subject, he said, "My name is Cecil Dorian."_

_"You go by two names?" Isabella knew everyone had more than one name, but usually people were just called by their first name._

_Cecil Dorian grinned. "My royal name, the one I'll be called when I'm king," he said, startling Isabella, "Is Cecil. But I hate it, its so annoying. So I tell people that my real name is Dorian." He frowned. "Please stop that, I'm not king yet."_

_Isabella dropped into a clumsy curtsy, but stopped when Dorian spoke. She looked down, embarrassed. "Okay...Dorian."_

_"Why don't I show you around the garden?" he asked, changing the subject again. Isabella nodded eagerly. Dorian took her arm, and they set off around the (quite small) courtyard._

"Lady?" Isabella woke up at the timid knock. Yawning, she got up to go answer the door. Nettie came in, holding a tray laden with food. Isabella was immensely grateful.

"His Majesty likes to order terrible food for his public suppers to mock the nobles that stay with him," the girl said softly, looking down. "The kitchen always makes a good meal after. I noticed you only stayed three courses in. I thought you might be hungry. I apologize for my forwardness, lady." Isabella smiled genuinely, helping Nettie settle the tray on the small table.

Over soft, fresh bread, cold sliced cheeses and meats, and a big bowl of thick soup, Isabella drew as much information as she could out of Nettie. She had learned well from her father on how to gather information. She would not be surprised again by the king. Thankfully, while Nettie was scared, it didn't take much to convince her she wouldn't be sacked or worse for continuing to speak poorly of royalty.

From Nettie she learned the war that Eudora glossed over had started before Cecil was made king, and was much worse than she made it out. "Half m'family was taken, lady," Nettie whispered, her lower lip quivering. "My brothers died." Isabella reached out a hand sympathetically. After a moment, Nettie continued. According to Nettie, Conrad had quite reluctantly, and mostly from the nobles pressuring him, sent soldiers to the borders, strengthening them for the upcoming attacks. The other countries had noticed, and preemptively struck. Conrad had acted too slowly. When Cecil stepped up to the throne, he had to face massive losses. Cecil was on the front fields of war for the first six months after his coronation. Unlike his father, he dealt swift justice. He reclaimed many lands in under a year that his father hadn't managed to take in the last half-decade. When he returned, he was different, according to Nettie. For some reason, Cecil was bitter towards those he had helped. He continued reclaiming lands for six more months. Then all remaining soldiers were called to the borders to guard them, or back to their regular duties. The fighting was over for some time. Then nobles began criticizing Cecil. Those who had credited him with winning the war claimed he was a coward, that he was following his fathers footsteps. They seemed to be forgetting everything he'd done for them.

* * *

Yeah, I'm stopping there. For this chapter, at least. Another cliff-hanger. Except I just wrote this in the car, so by the time I post it I'll probably be closer to done than I was last time!

Oh, and I've signed up on a site called Roll20 to do tabletop rpgs. If anyones interested, PM me! I'm also on a crazy boardgame site, though I'm only ever a guest. Again, PM me if interested!


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